you need to wake up because i can't do this without you
by howimetneilpatrickharris
Summary: five times he did and one time she didn't


**(one shot based on a prompt i found on tumblr, can't remember which blog but credit to whoever wrote it)**

Neither of them had _meant_ for it to happen (what kind of bro breaks his own code?). She was sad, everybody else had gone home, he had shown up, and one quick glance was enough for him to utter the words that started it all - "what's the matter?". In all innocence she'd asked him back to her place, and once that threshold (otherwise known as her front door) had been crossed, they both knew it was irretrievable. Try as they might (which admittedly, they didn't) to resist each other, it had happened. The next morning they lay tangled in the sheets, a navy blue suit and a pink blouse strewn across the carpet. As they stared at the ceiling, albeit unknowingly, they silently shared a simple conclusion: the damage had already been done. With that knowledge, and without an order from Robin that he get up leave immediately, Barney had unintentionally taken the opportunity to catch up on the sleep he'd missed the night before. For half an hour, she let him him sleep - a decision that had _nothing_ to do with the way his eyelashes fanned across his cheekbones as he tightly gripped the pillow, chest rising and falling in a slow and steady rhythm. After a while, though, with no body to provide the steady stream of awkward small talk that had become a vital part of the "morning-after ritual", Robin's mind began to wander. Specifically, it wandered to the night before, and the way she'd _felt_ the night before, the way he'd made her feel, and as she glanced down at him again she couldn't resist it anymore - the damage had already been done. A smirk crept up on her as she ran her fingers across his scalp, ruffling his already unkempt hair.

"Barney…" She muttered.

"Mm?" He sounded, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"You need to wake up."

"Why?" She slid her hand down his torso, forcing him to open his eyes.

"Because I can't do this without you." And he did, his stern look dissolving into a smirk as he discarded the pillow he'd been clutching behind him.

* * *

When Ted got the call, they'd all rushed, but none of them had rushed like she did. Ted had to get out of his hospital gown, Lily had nearly hyperventilated, and Marshall had lingered to calm Lily down. Still, even if they'd all rushed like she had, it almost certainly wouldn't have made a difference - he wasn't awake yet. Regardless, she'd rushed. The second Ted had reiterated what the receptionist had told him, she was out of the door and nearly sprinting down corridors to find his room, and at the time she couldn't (or wouldn't) tell you why. When a nurse - who, to her, looked about twelve - finally told her where he was, her mind went into overdrive. "Intensive care unit" was all she needed to hear before her heart beat doubled in pace, even if he was in a normal room by that point. She quietly made her entrance, biting her lip to suppress the water building up in her eyes, and took a deep breath as she glanced over him.

"Jesus Christ, Barney…." She whispered, cautiously sitting down next to him so as not to hurt him. Looking at him then, all purple bruises, open wounds, and white plaster-cast, she knew it really would be a miracle if he fully recovered - a miracle that he'd survived this far, even - but she'd be damned if she'd admit it. Brushing a delicate finger across the small cut on his forehead and the graze on his cheek, she inhaled shakily, before speaking aloud (who to, she wasn't sure).

"Barney," She said decisively, an instruction that needed to be followed. "You need to wake up because I can't do this without you." And he did, as if on cue, just in time for the others to flood in to the room. As all three of them sounded loud exclamations of pure shock, Barney and Robin simultaneously uttered a simple "shhh".

"He just woke up." She elaborated, on behalf of both of them, so as not to seem rude. In that moment, it became utterly clear to Barney why she was all he saw when his vision turned from a blur of blue and white to the emptiest blackness he could recall.

* * *

After Barney had missed the wedding photos, Robin had managed to calm her dad down. Well, actually, he'd calmed himself down when he punched Barney in the balls. Unfortunately, however, that didn't quite solve all their problems - Barney still wasn't nearly conscious enough to get married. Though it was a struggle, the group had managed to shift Barney to the bed before they'd left the pair alone in some feeble attempt to give them some privacy (and to spare what little remained of Barney's dignity). With all of the guests successfully distracted elsewhere in the hotel, the happy couple sat alone in their honeymoon suite. Barney lay silently, his cheek pressed against Robin's leg, his right thumb and index finger resting against his eyelids, and a frown tugging at his eyebrows. After a few minutes, a knock sounded from the bedroom door. Robin appeared to sigh in relief, sounding a quiet and yet audible "come in" to the visitor. But, for someone with a hangover to quite the degree that only a man like Barney Stinson could ever really manage, 'audible' was simply too loud. Rolling her eyes, Robin simply ran her hand between his shoulder blades, mumbling a few quiet words of apology for only him to hear. The door opened, revealing the unmistakably red hair of Loretta Stinson clutching a glass of water and a white packet. She smiled widely at Robin, silently handing her the glass as she opened the packet. Robin's eyes had softened completely since an hour before, now overflowing with sympathy as she gazed down at Barney, encouraging him to sit up.

"Come on, babe. Your mum brought you some aspirin." She coaxed, her tone hushed once more. Barney managed to sit up (though he was relying heavily on the number of pillows stacked behind him), accepting the pills and the glass, and taking two long gulps.

"You really are your mother's son." Loretta remarked when Barney handed the glass back to Robin. Laughing silently, he looked guiltily to his fiancee, taking her hand in his.

"I'm so sorry." He said simply, and yet with infinite sincerity. Considering what she'd heard only a few hours earlier, she figured that the groom being hungover was the least of their worries on that particular day.

"It's okay." She insisted, as Barney slipped under her arm, nuzzling back into her lap. After a long conversation with Loretta regarding the catering (that a woman who 'thinks the whole marriage thing's a drag' got a little more engrossed in than she'd care to admit), Robin was left alone once more with her husband-to-be. Alone with her thoughts, all she could think of to do was to smile to herself and check the time. When the latter occurred, her eyes widened six-fold.

"Okay, we'll sign you up for a couple of AA meetings next week but today, we're getting married. So, you need to wake up because I can't do this without you." And he did. And they got married. (And it was legendary).

* * *

Barney Stinson never married Robin Scherbatksy to become a father - he'd have been an idiot if he did, since as far as they were concerned it was impossible. And yet, eleven months after their first baby was was born as a result of an expensive surrogacy ordeal (that was worth every penny), Robin sat on a hospital bed in New York at four in the morning waiting to meet their second. Just as another contraction had died down - and Robin finished cursing herself for listening to a doctor that insisted that "just a little bit" of anything was okay - Barney burst through the door.

"I got here as fast as I could." He panted, hoisting their first-born further up his hip as he wiped a layer of sweat from his forehead. "You said you'd be fine to stay at Lily's tonight! You're not due for three weeks!" He exclaimed frantically, as soon as he'd caught his breath.

"I know, but I was wrong, now get over here." She insisted, extending an arm to him. He grabbed her hand, leaning down to kiss her forehead as their son reached out to her. Robin could do little more than hold his hand and smile through the pain, knowing full well that he'd be terrified if a contraction started while she was holding him.

"Mummy looks beautiful doesn't she, H?" Barney cooed, kissing his cheek as he smirked at his wife.

"Shut up." Robin retorted.

"You do. My mum said she'll be here in ten minutes so she can watch Harrison."

"You made your mum come out here?!"

"Babe, I don't think we need to traumatise our son by letting him sit in here while you push a child out of your-"

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence." She ordered, and Barney held his free hand up in surrender. As it happened, Loretta made it there in eight minutes and thirty-four seconds. Robin knew that, because counting was the only thing stopping her from screaming. With a few words of good luck and a promise to a now-hysterical Robin that everything would be okay, Loretta left them alone. Barney kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, as Robin immediately leant back into him. She turned her head, her face buried in his chest, and sobbed as another contraction ripped through her. Barney had to stop himself from crying as she held onto him, running a gentle hand up and down her back. After an hour and a half in that style, simply because it was three in the morning, Barney had fallen asleep. Robin remained cuddled into his chest, having already forgiven him, knowing that him just being in the room would be a great comfort to her. That plan went very quickly out of the window, however, when a nurse told her that her contractions were close enough together for her to start pushing. Still sobbing, Robin laid a weak hand on Barney's stomach to gently shake him awake.

"Barney," She sounded, taking a deep breath before she finished her sentence. "You need to wake up because I can't do this without you." And he did. Her words tumbled out so quickly that they almost blurred together, but even in his newly-conscious state, Barney had caught every word. Suddenly, he was up, planting a gentle kiss into her hair.

"Let's go and have another baby."

* * *

They were each doing their fair share of night feeds, they really were, but being parents to a one year old and a one month old (both of who were sharing their parents' bedroom) had brought up some unforeseen problems. While a month prior Harrison had just started to sleep through the night, his little sister was now taking no consideration for that, and saw no problem with waking him up at all hours just to further complicate her parents' life. On this particular occasion, it was Robin's turn to feed Ellie, but Harrison seemed to reject the idea. As Robin slipped the bottle into Ellie's mouth and Harrison reached out to her, she turned exasperated to Barney.

"Hey, jackass, you need to wake up because I can't do this without you." She told him, lifting one leg to kick him in the back. Barney groaned. "Just hold him for ten minutes and he'll go back to sleep." She told him, pacing the room. And he did. Barney sat up in the bed, grabbing Harrison from behind and pulling him onto his lap.

"Mummy called Daddy a jackass even though it's her turn to feed your little sister. Mummy's mean." He whispered to him, purposely loud enough for Robin to hear him. Robin tried and failed to suppress a laugh as she sat down on the bed, shuffling closer to the males of the family she still couldn't believe belonged to her. As he leant back against the headboard, Barney readjusted Harrison's position, cradling in his arms. He ran a gentle finger across his forehead and down his nose, maintaining eye contact as he did so, and smiled as Harrison started to yawn.

"No matter how many times these kids wake up in the middle of the night, we really lucked out with them." Barney mused aloud, as Robin dropped her head onto his shoulder and simply nodded.

* * *

Statistically, they were a couple that had always beat the odds. But, statistically, that's not always possible, and in this case the odds were well and truly stacked against them. The chances of getting her type of cancer, under her conditions: 1.8%. The chances of surviving it: 52%. And yet here they were, back in a fucking hospital room after thirty years, surrounded by claustrophobic, clinically white walls, one of them hooked up to forty-three different wires. Today was the day, and this was the hour, the minute, the second. They were unplugging the machine, and she'd either breathe or she wouldn't. Barney inhaled a deep and shaky breath, tears openly streaming down his face, now anything but youthful.

"Come on, Scherbatsky. You're a fighter." He muttered into her hand, twisting her wedding ring around her finger as he thought of their kids waiting outside. At 11:23am, a doctor in a white coat flicked a black switch on the side of a grey machine, and the beeping he'd been listening to for thirty days fell silent. "You need to wake up because I can't do this without you." But she didn't.


End file.
